Gods Forbid
by eileengarfield
Summary: I've been having nightmares, really really really vivid, bloody nightmares. And it haunts me each and every night. Lukercy, not your ship? You've been warned. Spoilers.


**Written by Neilson G. Gray**

**Warning : Explicit gayness, boyxboy, don't like don't read. Flames on pairing will be removed or mocked at. Criticism on writing are welcomed.**  
><strong>Pairing : Lukercy (Luke Castellan and Percy Jackson)<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer : I do not own Percy Jackson and the characters nor the books, they belong to Rick Riordan<strong>

**SPOILERS FROM THE LIGHTNING THEIF, THE SEA OF MONSTERS, THE TITAN'S CURSE**

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Gods Forbid<strong>  
><strong>_I love you_**  
><strong>

It's been long since my first quest, since I first met Tyson, since Bianca left us, and long since I last saw Luke. Luke Castellan, the son of Hermes, had left Camp Half-Blood for the bad side, I mean, Kronos' side. Yes yes I know I shouldn't be toying around with his name and all, but, yeah you get my point.

And now Annabeth and Grover are growing weary, they notice how I've been avoiding the talk about it. It, as in the prophecy, the oncoming battle, what Kronos might resort to, and Luke. They think I'm nervous, they think that I'm scared of the battle's aftermath. They comfort me with words like "You're not the child of the prophecy, there's got to be some mistake," and all those shitty remarks I don't even care about. I already have a draft idea on what's gonna happen in the battle. I know what will happen, will happen. The truth scares me, not my death, no, I can die for all I care.

Truth is I'm afraid to face Luke.

It may not be what would happen, my sword dripping with blood, my shirt splattered with blood. Warm, red, oozing blood, Luke's blood. It may not be real, but it terrifies me, so much I can't even sleep at night. The dreams I've been having, they're warning me of Luke's pale unmoving body I'd be forced to deal with, the one thing I prayed I needn't do. Luke's blank eyes, looking at me as his life force drained away, his lips attempting to quiver into a smirk, his last words… so silent, I wanted to pretend he's still alive, I wanted to think he's not here, and this, limp form on my arms, this isn't him.

But, like Calypso said, The Fates were cruel, Lady Aphrodite was cruel, giving you the pleasure of seeing him again, but then losing him in within an instant. One so near you, a thin paper wall between, but just like water and sand, it's slipping through your fingers. And that One was Luke. It took me years to admit, that I'd held feelings for him, but I shook it off as if it were dust.

But now here are the dreams, haunting me, clawing at me. Each night I woke up, I was drenched in sweat. I never told Annabeth nor Grover about my dreams, I figured it'd just freak them out even more then needed. Especially with so much on their shoulders, they needn't this one. And Luke, I was worried. What would Kronos do to him? How would he punish Luke? Luke failed four times on Kronos' missions. Kronos would haunt him in his dreams, punish Luke in his sleep, and he'd wake up in sweat, like me.

I wish I could rest it off, once in a while, but everytime I relaxed, I could just hear how scared Luke's voice was in the dreams, how hoarse it was from screaming in his sleep, how pale Luke's skin was from being so far beneath the Earth, and how his once blonde hair was paling, streaked with grey.

"_Thank goodness you're okay…"_

And the last four words, he'd mouth in each one of my dreams, dreams so real it seemed surreal.

_"I'll love you forever."_

And then, his eyes would go blank, his head would slump on my chest, his fingers gripped tightly around his sword, would loosen. His heartbeat slowed, non-existent, and his breathing ceased. I couldn't stand it. I'd cry in the dreams, and I'd wake up shaking, crying, sweating. Afterwards, I just stopped sleeping. I know it's bad for me, but can you just imagine how much it hurts to see your brother, your _lover,_ one you've trusted and laughed with, _dying_? Straining to his long, painful, bloody death? One you've trusted strong enough to take it all in and come back one day?

I could literally feel my heart clench, how bitter and sour it tastes in my mouth, how _painful _it really is, like when you feel guilty for your actions, just ten times even _worse_. Yeah, nothing I can't handle, right?

Sooner or later, Grover would catch the hint and start asking. Sooner or later, Annabeth would try and force the answers out of me, squeezing me to _death_ while at it. Yeah, no big deal. Nothing I've _never _handled before. Watch the sarcasm people.

But the big, fat, warm lumps of tears would keep falling each night, my throat would be tied in an invisible knot, and something sour would slide down my throat, onto my heart. I just want to get it over with. I can't help feeling guilty of something I didn't even do, _yet_.

He'll never see the unborn child I'm carrying. He'll never know he's already a father.

Oh how I wish the nightmares would stop haunting me.


End file.
